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Skies are brilliant marble forces,
swaying devotional gazes
southward to acute exceptions
of their ponderous ways.
Temples of mercuried love
bury blue eyed glints
of bashful powders
upon the sultan's pillow,
and dahlias
for the grassen shadows
dream boldly through the
finely painted starlight ...
Icon Poet Website
Human/machine poetry collaboration.
If you are fascinated by randomness, amused by odd word
combinations and just know you have the creative genius
to help guide the process along, then you might want to
check out the above link which will take you to a site
containing poetry generating software. All the software
on that site was written by Steve Tiffany. He also created
and maintains the website.
He wrote his original Amiga version of the software in the late
1980's. In 2000 Steve created an online version of Icon Poet,
featured on National Public Radio's "All Things Considered"
and on Yahoo. He now has a downloadable version available
for Windows users in demo and purchasable form.
I've since quit offering my own Windows poetry machine (Winpoet),
which I created a few years ago in an attempt to satisfy those
looking for a downloadable Windows version of Icon Poet. Winpoet
was a fair simulation of Icon Poet, but never had quite the same
ease of use. They are not affiliated with each other.
The following poems were written using Winpoet, but could have
just as easily been written with Icon Poet. Whether you find
enjoyment in creating light hearted poetry or inspirational
poetry, it's a bit of fun. Check out what others have written
by clicking on the above Icon Poetry button.
The Master has christened Winpoet by spontaneously
hammering out the following poem, using Winpoet:
Galileo draws the curtains after
searching through the center
knowing only chilly laughter,
gracefully the rough dissenter
stays beside the empty pools
and strolls past the convention
of conventionally brilliant fools
who write off his invention.
- Steve Tiffany, author of Icon Poet
--------------------------------------------------------------
More from Winpoet:
Mention alien engines to a buoyant woman,
and warm dollars divide the chaos
in the balcony
where blind futures sit and sleep,
hiding wet and comical truths
from carefree singers of the pink fields.
Where forests bury green adventures
beneath lovers buttery heads,
amorous monsters chase soupy women
across imaginary crumpled beds.
For The Muses tossed a salad
beyond wild wheaten faces,
hanging leafy woodsmans tobacco
above whitened willow places.
Dapper ghosts of jaded champagne faces
chased golden amorous pharoahs into doom
as secret singers of ivory graces
dreamt of languorous white infinities
in my room.
--------------------------------------------
Canvas shoes and leafy beds,
clover milk and strawy breads,
float across the woolly sky,
earth and clay and dewy eye.
---------------------------------------------------------
Sullen sailors hang their ropes
upon the silent seas
where balmy hearts and fragile hopes
implore the tattered breeze
to scatter deckhands through the haze
of misty journeys end
where churning oceans bend the gaze
that dying sailors send.
--------------------------------------
Cherry dogs beyond the river
gather paper cups
to dream indeed
and wait for sunset's
faded silver pups.
----------------------------------
Rugged boys with chilly fingers
charge across the swamp,
carnal cops molesting singers
dig and twist and romp.
----------------------------------
Beautiful woodsmen hide their heads,
shivering timidly in the mist.
Counterfeit girls alert the feds,
elusive hermits join the list.
----------------------------------------------
Random beauty caught the dancer
over by the bashful wood,
youthful in its golden answer
to anticipated good
chance encounters with romance. Her
candled heart did what it could
to catch her shy and fellow prancer.
Thinking not, it understood.
-----------------------------------------------
Under painful evil moon
scary robots stroll at noon.
Blackened watchmen gather bugs,
acrid broken landscape shrugs.
Leaden sullen witches stroll
between the silent lands
where scientific ghosts extoll
the anguish in the sands.
------------------------------------------
Saucy dancers watch and dream
as regal leisures kindly pass.
Silver girls think sleepy cream
touches strange magnetic glass.
-------------------------------------------------
Beastly alliances gather blood,
suddenly charging steamy fools.
Treacherous madmen bomb the mud,
hurriedly calling moral rules.
--------------------------------------------------
Were robots rich in forested glow,
or lawyers grand for garden weddings,
could common doctors likewise throw
bashful hands across our beddings?
----------------------------------------
Milky models love the sound
of modern ducks in stoney town.
Chalky riders gather round
beery cats in evening gowns.
---------------------------------------------
Schooled in the dubious art of the weather,
professional clowns imagine predictions
of cloudy dim visions producers untether
on markets obsessed with ratings addictions.
For masters of media sell oily preachers
to gluey eyed keepers of broadcasts' estate
and sugar free widows craving a feature
devoted to dewy eyed anchormens' fate.
---------------------------------------
Lacy kittens, reckless mice,
love the clever curse,
throwing cheese, throwing rice
at each others hearse.
----------------------------------------
Opening advice to a faded professor:
Sell your conventional stock.
Fire your broker, do not bless her,
expect a familiar knock -
It's the fellows in the empty halls
bellowing for your soul.
They've canceled all your monied calls
for an educator's role.
----------------------------------------
Ichabod Crane left bread and marbled
stone between the bed and garbled
quilts of keepers of the country
inn where ashen woodsmen's one tree
still left standing earned its glory
lasting out this wacky story.
-------------------------------------
Ichabod Crane danced brightly
while bats and wolves rode back
to the strawy swamps uprightly
digging and dreaming in his sack.
Harvest! Sunset! Ichabod Crane!
Stone and mortar look about same!
Treacherous ghosts beckoning pain!
Ashen hermits shiver in the rain!
-------------------------------------
Monkeys from the cherry valley
follow faded trails
into lowlands final tally
where puppies ring the golden bells.
---------------------------------------
Where shadow's hand would close our journey,
parting eyes turn toward eternity,
entering infinity across strange forests,
wearing white anguish beyond dark towers.
Parting soft breath opining our love,
touching vast fields beyond our grief,
reaching distant streets above our arms,
stretching back to wait for me you dream.
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